Love in the Time of Werewolves
by Katy Fisher
Summary: AU, based on a Tumblr post. Stiles and Jackson are close friends and Stiles decides to confide in his friend about falling in love with Derek. Except, Jackson is falling in love with Stiles.
1. Falling In Love With a Man

"Dude, where's McCall? I thought he'd be here, too," Jackson said as he stepped out of his car.

Stiles shrugged. "Nah, he's got Allison issues. I didn't feel like bothering him."

"Right." He looked up at the police department and said, "Second question: why are we here?"

"I'm bored. And my jeep decided to throw a temper tantrum and not start, so I'm here until the tow comes to pick it up."

"So, I'm your ride."

"You don't have to be if you don't want to," Stiles said. "Like I said, I'm bored, so I texted you to hang out. You don't have to be here…"

"No, it's cool. We'll hang out. I'll give you a ride." Honestly, Jackson would do anything for him. He's too…too…he's Stiles. He has that something that makes it impossible for Jackson to say no to him. And right now, leaning against the stair railing, with his jeans pulling just enough in the right spot...

"Thanks. That's great, because, otherwise, I'd have to stay here until my dad's done – aka really late – or walk home and I just don't feel like doing either of those things. The tow should be here in, like, an hour."

"So, what's the plan?" Jackson leaned up against the opposite side of the railing, just a few steps down. From there, he could faintly smell Stiles' cologne and, oh, if only he could step in, bury his face in Stiles' collarbone, grab onto his shirt, and take a deep, deep breath. And, when Jackson thought about it, what really was stopping him from doing just that?

"Well, I had another agenda when I texted you…"

Everyone would see, though. They're right there in public. With an entire police department in front of him.

"…See, I really want to talk to someone about this…"

But, does that even matter? Jackson's fingers twitched, itching to reach out and hold onto Stiles. Why should he care what they think? It's not like PDA is illegal.

"…And I can't talk to Scott about it."

Why are his lips so…? Jackson realized Stiles was waiting for him to say something.

"Hey, I'm here to talk," he said.

"Great, but," Stiles looked around, "not out here in the open. It's kind of private." He tugged at Jackson's sleeve for a second and said, "Follow me."

Jackson was happy to oblige. But, what did he want to talk about with him that he couldn't say to McCall? Those two had been friends longer than he had. Maybe it was something about Scott. Maybe it was something about Jackson, himself. Oh God, what if Stiles feels the same way? Shit, he should have done it. He should have grabbed Stiles right when he'd thought about it. That's when Jackson noticed something.

"Hey, you're really quiet."

"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I really don't want to talk about this out in public and it's kind of the only thing on my mind right now, other than my stupid car and I'm afraid that if I start talking, it'll just slip out and things that I don't want heard will be heard and, besides, we're where I want to be."

They had stopped in front of one of the prison transport vans. Stiles pulled a set of keys out of his sweatshirt and opened the back. Inside, it was all metal and reflective, with handcuffs and chains everywhere. Shit, was all Jackson's brain could muster.

"Here?" he said out loud.

"Yeah," Stiles said, stepping up into the van, "It's private and no one is going to come in here. I have the keys."

"Okay." Jackson stepped in and sat down on a bench while Stiles shut the doors. This exact situation hadn't been in Jackson's fantasies before, but he was definitely seeing how it could.

Stiles sat on the bench across from him, crossed his arms, and propped his feet up on the other side. He looked up at the ceiling and didn't say anything.

"So, what's up?"

Stiles sighed. "Give it a second. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to try to say to someone before. It's weird and new and I can't figure out if I have the balls to actually start talking about it."

Now, the temptation to touch and kiss and hold Stiles was almost too much to bear. But if it was this difficult for Stiles to say anything, Jackson didn't want to push it.

A few minutes passed and the enclosed space started getting a little too warm. Jackson started feeling uncomfortable. It didn't help that Stiles was sitting there in what looked like about 4 layers of shirts and vests and sweaters.

"It's hot in here."

Stiles looked at Jackson for the first time since they got into the van. "Really? I'm fine."

"How?"

Stiles shrugged.

"Okay. Well, if this is going to last much longer, I'm taking off my shirt."

When his shirt was over his head, Jackson saw Stiles looking at the ceiling again. He sat back and did his best to display everything. Stiles didn't seem to notice.

Then, Stiles sighed and said, "I think I'm in love with Derek."

"What?" Jackson couldn't help saying it a little louder than was probably necessary.

"Yeah. Yeah, I was surprised, too. I mean, I didn't realize I liked him until I was, well, completely infatuated. And now I think it's love. Or maybe some deep-as-shit infatuation with him. And I can't tell Scott. I mean…no, I can't tell Scott."

Jackson felt a bit light-headed. Well, at least he hadn't kissed Stiles earlier. That would have been a disaster.

"No," he mustered, "I guess you can't."

"I mean, there's all this animosity between them right now. Plus, he's got the whole Allison thing going on and…"

Shit. Shit shit shit.

"But, Derek. There's just…he's just…He has these ridiculous eyes. They're all these different colors in one. I mean, how does that color even exist? Does it exist? Like, anywhere else other than on his eyes? They're just so commanding, but I think I can also see all of his emotions in them. It doesn't matter what he's saying or how straight or angry or whatever his face is, I think I can see what he's really feeling in that hazel."

But, what's that stupid muddy hazel next to Stiles' deep and completely perfect brown eyes? And Stiles' face never has to be fierce or angry. It's just perfect and it shows everything and it's expressive. What's wrong with an expressive face?

But, Jackson said, "I didn't know he had feelings."

Stiles looked at him. "Of course he does. His whole family died in a fire and he's been all alone for so long. All he needs is people. Well, werewolves. Wolves are a pack animal and I'm amazed he's made it this long without completely losing it."

Jackson wasn't sure how he was listening to this without losing it.

"And I wish Scott would consider that. He doesn't have to think he'll lose everything if he makes a pack with Derek. It would be beneficial to both of them."

And Stiles would get to see him more often, flashed through Jackson's mind.

"Have you heard Derek talk?"

Jackson couldn't really remember anything good about Derek speaking. But, he didn't say anything. He just sat there and let Stiles talk.

"His voice is so…And, sometimes, I can hear what he's feeling, I'm sure of it. And I don't care if this makes me sound like a stalker, but I wish I could just sneak a recording device in his shirt or something and then play back him talking whenever I want to. I'd fall asleep listening to that. So important. So deep." Stiles paused a moment.

Jackson sat still, believing that, if he moved he might hit Stiles. Or kiss him.

"I wish he'd say my name."

Stiles stopped talking. Jackson wished he could be anywhere but in the van. Actually, he wished Stiles would straddle him and start kissing him.

"I don't think he even notices me. That's the worst part about the whole thing."

Damn straight.

"Isn't it, though? When you are so…in love, I guess, with someone else and they don't even know you exist as more than the friend of the werewolf they're trying to recruit?"

"Yeah." Jackson knew exactly what that felt like. Well, not the werewolf part, of course, but still. "Yeah, that's the worst."

"Yeah," Stiles sighed.

Maybe if Jackson _had_ just kissed him, Stiles would have forgotten about Derek and everything would be going way better. Maybe he still had time to do exactly that.

Stiles' phone started ringing. They both jumped.

Stiles looked at the screen and said, "Hey! They tow truck's here." He jumped up and opened the van. When he stepped down, he turned to look at Jackson. "You might want to put your shirt back on. It's definitely colder out here."

As Stiles ran out front to meet up with the tow truck, Jackson put on his shirt, stepped out of the van, and closed the doors. He was feeling a little numb. And like he'd missed out on an opportunity.

Mostly, though, he was feeling crushed.

He walked around to the front just as the truck was driving away with Stiles' jeep and the sheriff stepped outside.

"Stiles! Hey, Jackson."

"Hey, Mr. Stilinski."

"Dad! Jackson's my ride, they took my car, here's some keys I found, see ya!" Stiles shouted, tossing the van's keys to his dad and running to Jackson's car.

"Hold it, young man!"

Jackson didn't feel like sticking around to listen, so he sat down in his car and started it. After a moment, Stiles joined him.

The sheriff waved a thank you to Jackson. He waved back and pulled out.

"Hey, man, thanks again."

"Yeah, it's no problem."

"No, I mean, thank you. For listening. I needed to get that off my chest. It feels good that someone else knows."

Jackson didn't see it that way.

"Still no problem. But, I don't have any advice for you."

"No, no. That's cool. I don't need advice. I just needed to talk. I mean, I do need advice, because I don't know what the hell I'm doing. But, I didn't think you'd be able to help. You have Lydia. And the heart of every other girl in the school. What do you know about falling in love with men? Or Derek?"

Right. What does Jackson know about falling in love with men? Or Stiles?


	2. Or Something

_**Author's Note: **After writing the one-shot (aka. chapter 1, aka. Falling In Love With a Man), the majority of the reviews asked for more. And despite the fact that this was, indeed, inspired by a Tumblr post, I was starting to feel inspired by what I had written. And I'm not Stiles/Jackson shipper, but this AU is making me think differently. So, here is Chapter 2 and the official continuation of what was a one-shot. Thanks, guys! I'm glad you liked the first part! Additionally, I'm going to apologize. I've renamed the whole fic because I like the title for Chapter One and, well, now that there'll be more chapters, I needed a new title!_

* * *

Jackson opened his locker just as Stiles stepped up to his own. If he worked it right, Jackson could peek around his locker door without being noticed.

He watched as Stiles struggled with his lock and then almost smashed his nose in when he opened the door with a little too much force. Jackson chuckled into his own locker. When he looked back, Stiles was shoving a book into his locker and trying to pull another one out. Instead, a notebook burst out and loose papers flew all over the floor. Jackson couldn't help grinning as he watched Stiles frantically run around, trying to snatch the papers as they fell.

"Jackson!" Lydia was suddenly standing there, blocking his view of Stiles. "Jackson?"

His grin quickly disappeared. "Yeah?"

"You haven't heard me at all, have you? What are you doing?" Lydia looked behind her. Stiles had his textbook between his knees and was pushing everything into his locker as he tried to shut it.

She looked back at Jackson and he said, "Nothing. Just grabbing my books."

"Uh huh."

Jackson grabbed a book from his locker and slammed it shut. Why did Lydia have to show up and ruin it?

"So, anyway, I was asking if you wanted to come over after school? To study, or something…" she ran her hand down his arm and intertwined her fingers with his.

"Uh…" Jackson snuck a peek over his shoulder, but Stiles was walking away with McCall. "I have practice."

"That's okay," Lydia smiled up at him, "I can wait."

"Okay, sure," Jackson said. Maybe this is what he needed. Lydia _had_ been busy lately and he hadn't seen her in a while, and that's when this whole stupid Stiles thing had started. A night with Lydia could definitely help.

In the locker room, before practice, Jackson was trying to think about Lydia and his evening with her, but he could hear Stiles and McCall talking behind him.

"How's Allison?" Stiles asked.

"She's amazing. She's really amazing. It's not fair that we can't really see each other, but I sneak in her window most of the time and it's still amazing. Oh man, the other night her parents were home and…wow. That night was – "

Jackson groaned mentally. Amazing.

"I get it. It was amazing," Stiles said to McCall. Jackson smiled at that as he pulled on his shirt.

"Hey, you asked."

"Yeah. I did."

They were quiet for a moment as they dressed. Then McCall said, "You've been kind of quiet recently. You're not upset about Allison and me, are you? I can stop talking about her all the time, if that's it."

"No, it's not you. Besides, you couldn't stop talking about her if there was a gun to your head. No. I've been presented with a dilemma…from a friend. He's having a difficult time and I'm trying to figure it all out."

Friend, my ass, Jackson thought.

"I thought I was your friend," McCall said.

"I can have other friends!" Stiles sounded indignant. "You're my best friend."

"Okay, so who is it?"

"That's not important. Plus, it's a personal problem…for him. I promised to keep my mouth shut."

"So, what is it?"

"Well, he's worried about liking someone too old for him. And we're trying to figure out what the age difference limit is for someone in his teens."

"Like a teacher?" McCall dropped his voice, "Are you talking about being with a teacher? Do you have a crush on a teacher?"

"No! And it's not me! It's a friend and he doesn't have a thing for a teacher. Never mind. Just drop it. Don't worry about it."

"Hey, Jackson. Are you okay?" Danny suddenly said to his right. Jackson almost jumped. He had forgotten there were other people in the room.

"Yeah, man, I'm fine." He quickly grabbed the rest of his equipment and started putting it on.

Except Stiles was starting to get really serious about this Derek thing. And Jackson could see his chance slipping away faster and faster. But, no, that shouldn't be an issue. He had Lydia. He was going to be with Lydia after practice and everything would be okay.

All of practice, Jackson did his best to concentrate on just playing lacrosse. But, damn it, someone had to be sick and someone else had to be injured and how the hell did everything fall into place that Stiles was actually practicing, too? Watching him run around in the lacrosse uniform, stumbling on his own feet, getting excited about simply being on the field – it was all so damn distracting.

Then, in a surprise play, someone actually passed the ball to Stiles. He was in such shock, he turned to run and stumbled straight into Jackson. There they were, on the ground. And Stiles was on top of him.

"Hey! Get off!" Jackson shouted.

"Woah, sorry, Jackson! Sorry," Stiles said as he tried to get up. And damn his klutziness, Stiles couldn't seem to get any kind of leverage and Jackson was starting to get desperate.

"Just get off!" Jackson managed to get a hand on one of Stiles' shoulders and he shoved roughly, rolling Stiles off of him. He jumped up and stalked over to a bench to sit down.

"I said I was sorry," he heard Stiles say behind him.

"Jackson!" Coach shouted. "Whittemore! What are you doing?"

"Just a little winded, Coach. I'm sitting out." Jackson glared at his feet.

"What? Are you kidding me? Fine! Fine, everyone, practice is over! We'll just end ten minutes early because team captain over here needs to mope!" Coach Finstock shouted. "Back to the locker room! Run! I don't want to see your faces until tomorrow!"

Shit. Jackson could not shower in there with all of them. Not after his run-in with Stiles. He ran back to the locker room behind everyone, took off all of his equipment, and changed his shirt. When he grabbed his things to run out, Stiles was walking back to his locker with a towel around his waist.

"Hey, Jackson," he said, "I'm really sorry. I wasn't looking and…"

"Whatever, it's fine. See you tomorrow," Jackson said before running out.

When he got to Lydia's, she opened the door saying, "That was faster than I expec – "

"I need to shower here."

"Okay," she said, taking his hand and leading him into the house. When they got to the bathroom, she came in with him and also started undressing.

"No," he said, only his shirt off, "you don't have to join me. I just need a shower."

"So do I. Mom and Dad aren't home yet. And I did say 'study, or something' earlier today, right? We'll just do some 'or something' first." Lydia stepped up to kiss him lightly. "And it seems you're already prepared for this anyway."

Later, as they were getting dressed, Jackson still found himself thinking about Stiles. Stiles running toward him, Stiles colliding with him, Stiles on top of him…

"Jackson? Sweetie? Did I do something wrong?" Lydia said, touching his hand lightly.

"What? No, of course not. You're perfect."

"As perfect as I am, you've been really distracted lately. Are you…happy? With me?" She looked so hurt and worried. Jackson couldn't hurt her more.

"Of course I am. You're perfect, Lydia. I'm sorry, I'm just…" in love with Stiles "…not doing well in math. If I don't pass the test next week, they might bench me at the next lacrosse game."

Lydia immediately brightened. "Then, good thing you came over tonight. I'll help you study for the test!"

He kissed her on the forehead, "Thanks, Lydia."

Problem was, he didn't have a problem with math. She was teaching him things he already knew, so his mind kept wandering back to Stiles.

How could Stiles be in love with Derek? Derek, of all people! And since when was Stiles gay? Then again, when Jackson thought about it, he couldn't remember a time when Stiles was ever with a girl. There was a little time when he was obsessed with Lydia, but that had been when they were younger.

But what about Jackson? Since when was _he_ interested in men? Does something like this just happen? Was he suddenly gay? But, then, how could he be? He was sure that, at least for a time, he had had feelings for Lydia. Right? Was it all a lie?

He looked over at her, writing down how to solve the problem step-by-step, and his heart grew a little. No, it wasn't a lie. It couldn't be. If he hadn't been in love with her, he had definitely had strong romantic feelings for Lydia once.

And now he had them for Stiles. With his nose-crinkling laugh, over-excitability, understated and lazy intelligence…his infatuation with Derek. It just wasn't fair. What did Derek have that he didn't?

He's a werewolf. A supernatural being with superhuman powers. How could Jackson compete?

Or, maybe he could.


	3. For Stiles

The next day at school was a blur for Jackson. Albeit, a slow blur. He couldn't remember anything that happened, but he could remember sitting through class after class and that each minute felt like an hour. It didn't seem like the day would end.

After leaving Lydia's the night before, he spent a long time agonizing over his decision, making plans, unmaking them, talking himself into and out of the idea over and over again. Sometime around 5 am, Jackson had settled on just going for it and hoping for the best. He was going through the day exhausted and anxious.

When the day did finally end and Jackson was leaving practice, he found that he might not actually have the heart to do it. What if everything went wrong? What if Stiles ended up just hating him? It might all backfire. The same 'what ifs' and 'maybes' and 'Stiles mights' that he had had the night before.

"Hey, Jackson!" Stiles shouted from behind him. "Wanna hang out? Scott and I were going to go to the movies tonight, but he's got something to do – probably Allison stuff – and, well, it's Friday and I don't want to be stuck by myself, as usual, and I was wondering if maybe you might be doing something?"

A movie with Stiles? Yes.

"Oh, wait, you probably have plans with Lydia? It's Friday night, what would you want to hang out with me for? Maybe you guys can come with me to the movie? You okay with a third wheel? No, probably not. Maybe I should just go home and…read."

"Actually, I don't have plans with Lydia," Jackson said.

Stiles' face brightened. "Great! Let's…"

"I mean, I have something to do right now, but later…when I'm done, I'm free."

"Cool! Okay. Then, I'll see you at the theater later? Unless you don't want to see a movie. That would be weird, wouldn't it? We could just play video games instead."

"No, a movie's fine. Pick something, text me the time. I'll see you later."

Jackson opened his car door, completely elated. A movie with Stiles!

"Hey, Jackson?" Stiles said, grabbing his shoulder.

Heat seemed to come from his hand and seep down into Jackson's arm. "Yeah?"

Stiles leaned in and said quietly, "Would it be weird if I - ? I mean do you think I could…? Would he even…?"

"Who? I don't understand what you're saying, Stiles."

Stiles closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "Do you think Derek would come if I invited him?"

Jackson didn't know how to respond. Derek? He would ruin everything. But, he couldn't say that to Stiles.

Stiles opened his eyes, but looked at the ground. "Would it be a stupid idea to try to get him to come along with, like, an invitation to, I don't know, 'get to know Scott's people' or something? Make it look like it's a group thing to help him get on Scott's good side when really I just want to go to a movie with him? Would that be wrong? Would it work?"

He looked at Jackson.

Jackson froze a moment longer. Damn Derek, okay? To hell with Derek. Just go with me.

"He doesn't seem like a 'movie with the guys' kind of a…guy," Jackson finally managed to say.

"Right. You're right. Of course not, what was I thinking?" Stiles said as he stepped back. "Thanks, Jackson. I'll see you later."

Stiles walked away and Jackson sat down in his car, slamming the door closed. That decided it. He was going to do it.

He could still feel Stiles' hand on his shoulder.

Jackson barely noticed driving. Suddenly, he was sitting in his car in the middle of the forest and he didn't really remember getting there. Through the trees, he could just make out the Hale house. He turned the car off, got out, and stood there.

Shit shit. He couldn't do it.

As he turned back to his car, he thought of Stiles. How, just 20 minutes before, he had looked into Stiles' deep, brown eyes and had wished that those eyes were looking soft and nervous for him instead of Derek. How Stiles' hand on his shoulder had felt like security and electricity. How he wanted to go to that movie with Stiles and hold his hand in the dark and share that time with just him.

Do it for Stiles.

Jackson walked quickly through the trees. As the dilapidated house got closer, he started feeling more and more confident. This was going to solve everything.

He didn't even stop when he got to the stairs. He walked straight up them and right to the door. Only then did he hesitate. Knock or go inside? Half the house was falling over. What was the point of knocking? Then again, it was Derek's house. To the best of Jackson's knowledge, the guy lived there.

In the end, he didn't have to do anything to the front door.

"What do you want?" Derek's voice said from behind him.

Jackson turned around with start.

Shit. Derek was in the middle of the front clearing with his arms crossed. His face was cold and hard and his eyes looked like steel. Jackson had somehow forgotten how very large and threatening the guy was. What the hell did Stiles see in him, anyway?

"I need your help."

Derek just looked at him.

Jackson panicked. How could he ask him now? He was just going to sound like a complete idiot. How must he look to this guy?

Say it. Just say it.

"I want to be a werewolf."

That's when McCall stepped into the clearing. "Jackson?"

Of course. Of course this would happen to him. Now, not only did he look like a complete idiot, he had to be one in front of Derek Hale AND Scott McCall.

"What is going on?" McCall asked.

"Your friend wants to join my pack."

"I – No, I…"

"Jackson! You can't!"

Derek gave McCall a hard look. "This does not involve you."

"Yeah, I think it does. I don't care if you're Alpha, he's my friend."

Jackson couldn't help the little snort of derision.

"Sounds like it." Derek even sounded like he was growling when he talked.

"Okay, fine, he's my best friend's friend. Jackson, don't do this."

"Shut up, McCall. It's my decision."

"No," Derek said. "This is my decision."

What the hell? This is Jackson's life, Jackson's decision. What does this guy have any say? Why does McCall have any say? Jackson could see it slipping out of his control.

"Make me a werewolf. It's my right."

Suddenly, Derek was right in front of Jackson.

"No."

Shit. Just that word alone sent a chill down Jackson's spine.

"Derek! Hey, Derek!" Out of the corner of his eye, Jackson saw McCall was trying to pull Derek back. But he didn't move. And Jackson was locked on his eyes. He didn't dare look away.

Derek pushed McCall back. "You do not make this decision for me." His cold eyes flashed red. "I'm the one who has to bite you. I'm the one who has to be responsible for you. And from what I know about you, I don't know if I want to deal with the werewolf version of you. Don't test me. Don't tell me what to do. Don't come back here again without permission. Now, leave," he said the last with a low growl. His eyes were glowing red.

Jackson didn't need to be told twice. He stepped back quickly, turned, and ran. He didn't even care that McCall saw him running like a coward. Or that he stumbled over a root as he left the clearing. He just needed to get away.

At his car, he fell in, slammed the door, and locked it. His heart was racing and he gasped for air.

Jackson couldn't face Derek Hale again. That was it. He didn't need it that badly. He could do without being a werewolf. He didn't even want to try to compete with Derek. Who was, impossibly, the object of Stiles' affection.

His text ringtone suddenly went off, making him jump. Jackson fumbled with the phone, his hands, he noticed with some shame and disgust, were shaking with adrenaline and fear.

The text was from Stiles. '8:15. Limitless.'

Jackson couldn't believe he had almost forgotten about the movie with Stiles.

Stiles. He was the whole reason Jackson had tried this. He was the whole reason Jackson would try it again.

"Shit."

Jackson would try it again for him.

"Damn it, Stiles."

'See you then,' he texted back.


End file.
